Sunday Candy
by Cuticlecare
Summary: One shots of prompts I wrote. And the title's because I could not get over how amazing Anna Kendrick sound when she sang Sunday Candy. Mostly AU but all Jeca *heart eyes emoji*
1. Chapter 1

**Sunday Candy**

That was a brutal shift.

Jesse stood in front of the door of his house, taking a moment to rub away the soreness from his eyes. He grimaced as he felt the ache in his neck and back. He smelled of smoke; he was covered in dirt and soot; all from spending the last ten hours on his feet attending to a sudden and fierce blaze downtown.

Yesterday's emergency was not particularly nice one.

An explosion and the ensuing fire that had spread far too quickly was never nice. Jesse didn't have time to wrap his head around the damage done. He didn't want to. What he needed to do then was to buckle down, dealt with what was in front of him and prayed it would be adrenaline and coffee had kept him going but now the tiredness was catching up. Benji had dropped him at his front door and Jesse had dragged himself up the walkway, half asleep. It was already Sunday morning; one of those perfect sleepy spring ones with the sun already streaming down and the neighbourhood quiet.

Jesse fumbled for his keys and after the second try, managed to open the door and stumbled inside into the hallway. He took off his coat, almost compelled to drop it in a heap on the floor. He was that tired. Despite wanting nothing more than to kick off his boots and land face down on his bed, he knew he'd better stripped off his work clothes and put them in the laundry. Smelling of smoke was one thing, making his bed reek with it was another.

The house was quiet and Jesse trudged into the living room. He glanced ruefully at dining table. Dinner had been cleared away, of course, but the nice silver candlesticks were still set up; the candles long snuffed out. The fancy placemats were still there, together with the little floral arrangement that Beca made from the flowers he brought for her. He had to hurry off halfway through date night with Beca. It was supposed to be a quiet night in, just them two of them having a romantic dinner and watching a movie. They were celebrating their second anniversary as a couple. In between his shift patterns and Beca's work, it had been hard for them to have a weekend together. It was just pure bad luck that when they finally did, he had been called back to the station.

Jesse sighed, tiredly rubbing his face again.

He would make it up to her. She must have left last night after he had to run off and once he had some sleep, he'll go over to her place. Hopefully, there would be still enough hours in the Sunday to do something really special with his girlfriend. It had been an amazing two years and he really just want to show Beca how much she meant to him.

Just when Jesse was about to turn towards the laundry room, he heard someone moving in the kitchen. For a moment, he thought his tiredness was making him hear things. Jesse frowned, listening intently and then he heard the unmistakeable sound of Beca's voice, singing. And when he made his way to the kitchen at the back, Jesse could not help but smile at what greeted his tired eyes.

Beca was making breakfast. Her back was towards the door, her hair loose down her back. She was wearing a light blue vest, one strap hanging off her shoulder and grey boy shorts, busy whisking some batter in a bowl. Jesse had trampled across living room to the kitchen in his heavy work boots but she did not hear a thing. She had her earbuds in, humming along and singing snatches of the song she was listening o.

"You gotta ...hmm hmm...holy..." Beca hummed and sang, whisking in time to the music. "...waiting for...hmmm.. Candy."

This was how he liked to see her. So entrenched into whatever she was listening to, eyes closed, mouth upturned at the corners. Th sight never failed to make him smile. She looked so happy, so lost in the music that it didn't matter what was happening around her. Right now, Beca was dangerously waving the whisk in the air, in time to the music, splattering bits of batter on the counter top. Beca's hips swung slowly as she danced to the music and when she spun around on her heels, she caught sight of Jesse.

"Jesus Christ!"

The bowl would have slipped and fell on the floor if Jesse had not caught it in time. It was far too late to save the whisk.

"Dude!" Beca yelled out, annoyed. "You scared the hell out of me!"

Jesse just smiled as he bent down to pick up the whisk. He perched both whisk and bowl on the counter top, before checking up on Beca. She was scowling at him; that cute scowl, all pursed lips and evil eyes which he always found endearing and totally cute. It was crazy how completely adorable she looked when she's angry. Not that Jesse ever told her that. He still have some shred of self preservation left.

"'Morning, babe," he said instead.

"Why did you sneak up on me like that?" Beca scolded back, turning the music off.

"I wasn't," Jesse replied. He gestured towards his boots. "These made a racket. But you had your earphones on."

Beca took off her earbuds, winding them up and placing her stuff on the counter. "I still think you're sneaking up on me," she pouted, still too stubborn to give in.

Jesse knew better than to disagree with her. He changed the subject instead. "What are you making?" he asked, peering into the bowl on the counter.

Mollified, Beca picked up the whisk, rinsing it under running water before beating the batter again. "Pancakes," she churlishly answered.

"Buttermilk blueberry pancakes?" Jesse asked, smiling up at her, his cheeks dimpling.

Beca just scowled again and huffed. "They are your favourite. I wanted to make sure the batter's ready when you came in. Whenever that is."

Jesse came over to where she was, placing his hands on her waist and stealing a kiss on the cheek. Beca just looked annoyed, rubbing her cheek where he kissed her but Jesse just laughed, knowing she was pretending.

"I'm sorry about last night," he apologised. "I know we had planned it for weeks."

"Yeah, well -" Beca shrugged. "You have to do your job."

Jesse just hugged her closer, rubbing his face into her soft hair. She didn't have to do this. She could have call it a night after he rushed off and go home. She didn't have to stay to make sure he had breakfast.

"You stayed," he mumbled into her hair. "I blew you off with dinner last night and still you stayed."

He didn't have to say how grateful he was that she did. After a night like that, seeing her in his kitchen, doing something so mundane like making him breakfast was what Jesse sorely needed. Instinctively, Beca could sense what else he needed from her. She placed the bowl back on the counter, turned around in his arms and hugged him back.

He sighed softly.

Beca gave the best hugs. She did not give them often. She was not a hugger, she had declared earlier in their relationship. He was the touchy feely one but when she did give a hug, she would hold him so close, so tight, so fiercely that Jesse could not help but feel everything was going to be ok. She broke the hug after a few minutes and looked at him properly.

"You're really tired," Beca commented, looking at Jesse critically.. "Bad night, huh?"

Jesse closed his eyes momentarily.

"One of the bad ones," he agreed. "Took hours to bring the blaze under control."

Beca wrapped her arms again around him, tilted her face up and kissed him fervently. When they broke apart, a smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth when she saw he was gasping for breath.

"You should get some rest," Beca ordered, running a hand through his mussed up hair, She scratched his scalp lightly and a low moan fell from Jesse's lips as he screwed his eyes tight. "What do you want to do first? Eat or sleep?" Beca asked. "If you wanna eat, get clean up and I'll get a batch ready."

"How 'bout if I go straight to bed?" Jesse mumbled, placing his hand over Beca's, silently urging her to scratch his scalp again. He still had his eyes closed tight.

"I leave the batter in the fridge," Beca replied. "You can cook them yourself when you're up."

Jesse opened one eye. "Then I eat now."

Beca gave him a mock scowl. "Lazy ass. Go get clean up."

By the time Jesse had come back from the bathroom, the kitchen smelled of breakfast. Of warm sugary pancakes, melted butter and hot, bitter coffee. The pan was sizzling. A place was set on the countertop, complete with cutlery and freshly squeezed orange juice. The radio was playing some jazz softly in the background and in the midst of it all was Beca, concentrating hard on cooking his pancakes.

Jesse settled on the barstool, watching her.

She hadn't showered yet. Her face was slightly red from the heat from the stove and a sheen of sweat was on her forehead. Her hair in a messy bun with flyaway strands around her face. Beca impatiently swiped the back of her hand across across her face to push those annoying strands away. Jesse thought she couldn't look more perfect.

"What were you singing just now?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Beca answered distractedly. She flipped the third pancake over carefully. "Oh nothing. Just a rap song."

"Didn't sound like a rap song." Jesse said, frowning a little.

Beca slid the last pancake onto his plate and put aside the pan. She pushed the plate nearer to Jesse, who took it and added a generous pat of butter on top of the stack.

"It's by Chance the Rapper. Quite a sweet song actually.," Beca answered, handing Jesse the maple syrup and a fresh cup of coffee. "I was singing the hook."

He was already scoffing the pancakes.

"Sing it for me," he asked through a mouthful of pancakes.

"What?"

"The hook. Sing it for me?," Jesse said, after swallowing and taking a gulp of coffee. "Please?"

Beca's jaw dropped slightly. The hook had been playing on a loop in her mind. It was more like a ear worm, rather than anything else and she wasn't paying any attention to it.

"Wait," Beca frowned, trying to recollect the lyrics. Jesse watched as she closed her eyes. Then she opened her eyes and began to sing.

" _You gotta move slowly. Taking in my body like it's holy,_ " Beca sang. " _I've been waiting for you for the whole week. I've been waiting for you; you're my Sunday Candy._ "

She finished the verse and looked at Jesse with a huge smile on her face. "Don't you think it's beautiful?" Beca asked, her blue eyes shining. "I don't know who sang the hook but it sounded - "

She couldn't finish the sentence. Jesse's fork had clattered down noisily onto the counter and he was already out of his seat, reaching for her.

"I think you're beautiful," he murmured, grasping her closer, his mouth already seeking hers. Beca could only hold on to him tight because Jesse was already backing her up against the counter. His hands were on her waist, lifting her up onto the counter, lips still locked together. Her legs fell open and Jesse moved closer, into that warm space between her thighs. His hands travelled up to cradle her face as he kissed her deeply.

Beca met his kisses just as fiercely. She pushed herself slightly off the counter, pressing herself closer. Air became a problem and Jesse had to draw back to catch a breath before sinking his face into that sweet space on her neck, just below her jaw. He loved to feel the beat of her pulse under his lips, loved the scent of her clean sweat, loved how soft and smooth her skin was just there. His hands were already scrabbling underneath her vest, up her bare back and Jesse was impatiently tugging at the vest, wanting to take it off when he heard a low giggle in his ear.

"I thought you were tired," Beca teased.

"No, not tired," he smiled. "Not when you sing like that."

And his lips met hers again and the pancakes laid forgotten.

* * *

AN : Umm...the original was a lot longer and dirtier but it's a Sunday sort of thing and I wanna to keep it sweet.


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN :** Hey guys, umm...sorry if you're expecting a raunchy follow up to chapter 1. This is not that chapter. I'm slightly obsessed with funny prompts at the moment so here's where I'm going to park these stuff. I hope someone enjoys this. Slightly AU, K+ rating _

* * *

PROMPT

Waiting in a holding cell together for our friends to bail us out and you were unexpectedly cool.

* * *

 **CELLMATES**

Her dad was going to be mad.

So, so mad.

Beca was sure being hassled out of bed at two a.m. in the morning was not her dad's idea of fun; let alone having to bail his stubborn, troublesome daughter out of jail. Sure, he did tell her to enjoy college, put herself out there, create memories but Beca was 100% certain did not involve getting handcuffed and landing her sorry ass in jail.

She did not even know what the big fuss was really.

Yeah, so she did break that glass wall at the auditorium. But things like this happens all the time in college, right? Surely frat houses get trashed on a regular basis? There were foolish, young people and illicit booze all over campus; what's a little destruction of property? Her minuscule misdemeanour with that flyaway trophy would be like a tiny, tiny blip, right?

Beca sighed, rubbing her face tiredly. The holding cell was a little warm and she took off her blue short sleeved jacket. Beca pulled off the too-tight yellow scarf, using it to wipe her face instead. The bench she was sitting on was hard and uncomfortable, bolted on to the wall. She sat at the edge, facing away from the rest of the cell, not wanting to make any eye contact with anyone. Who knew what other criminals this cell was holding?

She wondered how long it would take her dad to come get her. She had to use her one phone call to ring her dad. Quiet fury was how she could described how her dad sounded over the phone. Beca sighed. She has a long night ahead of her and an even longer lecture from her Dad at some point.

In her defence, she was trying to stop Amy from ramming that trophy up someone's ass. That gotta be painful and possibly classified as GBH. It wasn't her fault that the trophy was so cheap and flimsy it broke apart as soon as she touched it. Ok, maybe trying to grab it from Amy when Amy's kraken was fully unleashed was not a wise move. And maybe she should have legged it like the other Bellas before the police officer arrived. Instead she had stood there like a lemon, clutching the remains of the trophy, looking guilty as fuck. And giving the police officer lip and refusing to be co-operative was not one of her best life choices either.

Well, It was too late to regret it now.

"Tough night, huh?"

Beca's forehead scrunched into its habitual scowl. Was someone trying to talk to her? She stole a look to her right, where the voice was coming from. A guy with dark hair was sitting...no, lounging next to her. That was pretty unsettling. Not so much that he was trying to make conversation; Beca was always wary of random guys trying to talk to her. It was the way he seemed to be at ease, leaning back against the wall in his navy blue hoody with that confident smile on his face. Yep, must be hardened criminal. This kind of night must be a regular thing for him.

Beca didn't answer. She really didn't want to encourage any sort of interaction. She edged away a little, fixing her eyes outside the cell.

He chuckled.

The guy next to her chuckled.

It was a low, throaty sound. One that made goosebumps erupt on her both arms. Strange that. Beca hastily rubbed her forearms, still ignoring the guy next to her. Obviously pervert here was not taking the hint that no, she would not like to make conversation, thank you very much. What she should do next? If she moved any further down the bench, she would totally land on the floor. Maybe she should just get up and move somewhere...

"So..." She heard his voice, now a husky drawl. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Beca whipped round, her mouth falling open. Did he really said that? The guy still had that easy smile on, his brown eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Dude, seriously?" she replied, cocking one eyebrow.

There goes that chuckle again. He straightened up in his seat, leaning slightly forward.

"Too cheesy?" he asked. Beca didn't respond. He shrugged. Beca could see his wide shoulders rippling under that ridiculous hoody. "At least it made you say something," he was saying now. "We had a conversation. I shall count that as a victory."

And of all things, he made a fist pump with his right hand.

"Wha - ?" Beca stuttered. Was this guy for real? She fixed her blue eyes on him, trying to stare him down. "Ok, just now? Totally not a conversation."

He was shaking his head slowly, like he could not believe she was being so stubborn.

"No, I'm calling it," he said. His eyes, which were curiously warm and chocolatey, were gazing at Beca and as if he had made up his mind, the guy nodded solemnly. "This is how we met. Right here in this holding cell. It's strange and a little disturbing but it's going to appeal to your badass, weird self. We're going to be best friends and/or lovers."

"Hold up!" Beca cried out, putting hand up. "Firstly, please don't say lovers. And secondly, dude, you're creepy as fuck. Back off!"

She was about to stand up and called an officer over but the guy had this mad habit of staying unfazed, even at Beca glaring daggers at him. He was now raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright. Alright. I'm sorry," he apologised. "I just thought you could use some cheering up."

"That's how you cheer people up? By being creepy?" Beca lambasted back. "And for the record, I was perfectly fine."

"Umm...no," he disagreed. "You had this weird scowl on - " he pulled his face as a demo, his hand gesturing at the frown. " - and you were sighing so loud. Like your dog's hurt. ...Hey, is that why you're in here? You killed the fella who hurt your dog? What did he do? What did YOU do?"

Beca's head was spinning by now.

"Can you stop talking for a minute?" she answered, trying to get a word in edgewise. "I don't have a dog. I have a cat. And while I'm generally mild mannered, non-confrontational sort of person, I will KILL anyone who harm a hair on Mr. Truffles. If anyone even look at Mr. Truffles the wrong way..."

"Mr. Truffles? That's pretty cute."

Beca's mouth snapped shut. She said too much already. Why was she even talking about Mr. Truffles to this complete stranger and utter weirdo? How the hell did he manage to make her yap so much? Even the Bellas didn't know about Mr. Truffles. She huffed loudly and turned away stiffly from the guy. She was going to fall off the edge of the bench, trying to inch away from that weirdo but she could deal with the that. What she couldn't deal with was thinking about Mr. Truffles.

Beca rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes.

Great.

Now she was missing her fat ginger cat at home. He had been her cat since she adopted him from the rescue centre. Only the grumpiest, fluffiest cat alive and her very best friend.

"You miss your cat, huh?"

What? He could read her mind now?

"It's tough, isn't it?"

God. Will he ever stop?

"I know how you feel," he was saying now.. "I missed my dog too. He passed away in August."

She didn't miss that little catch in his voice and Beca felt herself thawing. She still felt a tiny bit suspicious though.

"That better be the truth," she turned round and snarked back dangerously. "You'd better not be making that up just to get me to talk to you."

An incredulous look slid across the guy's face.

"Why would I make up something like that?" he answered, sounding shellshocked. "That's sick. Oh my god, what kind of weirdos do you usually meet?"

No one as cute as him. Now that she was facing him, Beca had a better look. Rumpled, slightly curly dark hair, slightly. Eyes like molten chocolate. A Cupid bow's mouth, too pretty to be on a guy. The kind she couldn't stop staring at now. Beca bit her lower lip a little self consciously when that thought crossed her mind. His eyes flickered from her eyes downwards to her lips for a moment and he suddenly cleared his throat. He was turning away now, looking like he finally got the message; she didn't want to talk to him.

Beca felt terrible all of a sudden. She had been a little bitch. Maybe he was really trying to be nice.

"I'm...I'm sorry about your dog," she said a little hesitantly.

There was a long silence before he sighed a little and turned back to her. There was a small smile on his lips but she could see his eyes were a little sad.

"It's ok," he said. "Gary was getting really old. He's been my dog since I was ten. I was just happy I was there for him."

"What sort of dog is he?"

"A border collie."

"Do you have a photo?"

"Yeah. Plenty. On my phone."

Beca nodded, biting her lip again. All their belongings were surrendered at the desk. She wouldn't have minded seeing pictures of Gary the dog. Beca wondered what she should say next to keep the conversation going. She was never any good with small talk.

"So...your cat," the guy spoke up. "He's at home?"

"Yeah. My mom's taking care of him," Beca responded.

His smile looked more genuine now. "So no one hurt your cat?"

"No," Beca said, returning back the smile. "That's not why I'm here for."

"Are you going to tell me?" he asked. "Or do I have to annoy it out of you?"

"You DO know you're annoying," Beca quipped back, her smile getting a little wider. She shrugged nonchalantly, checking her nails. "Destruction of property. I threw something through a glass wall at the auditorium. Shattered it to pieces."

There was an awe silence before the guy swore softly under his breath.

"Damn. That's pretty impressive," he said. "I thought you got into a fight. Judging by the state of your knuckles -"

Beca looked at her hand with its red, raw knuckles. It was still sore.

"Yeah. Punched a guy in the face."

"In the face?" he said disbelievingly. "You punch a guy in the face?"

Beca rubbed her knuckles briefly, wishing she had some ice on it now.

"He was hassling my friends. I had to step in." she said. "What? Why are you laughing?"

He was trying to stifle his laughs. Beca looked seriously put out now and realising perhaps he was on dangerous ground yet again, he hiccuped to a stop and tried to explain.

"Don't be mad. It's not you; it's me," he said. "All this while I was sitting here thinking _hey, this girl in this cute outfit; she looks sweet. Why is she here? There must be some mistake._ And here you are kicking ass, punching people out, destroying buildings."

"Believe it," Beca smirked. He had such a nice laugh. "So what are you in for?"

"Minor felony."

He was grinning up at her now. She quirked an eyebrow at the glib answer.

"Wow, do you come here often?" Beca said. "You looked awfully relaxed about this whole thing."

"First offence, I swear," he said. "We had to do a dare at the pledge. The seniors put us up to it. I got caught tagging a van." He sighed, looking slightly ashamed. "I should really rana little faster."

"Cardio's not your best suit, huh?" Beca teased.

"Nope. I'm more into bare cage fighting," he replied casually. "But I don't think being charged with assault on an police officer will go down well with my mum."

He said that with a straight face and Beca had to laugh at that.

"I feel you, dude. My dad is going to come down hard on me," she replied. "I'll bet he'll still try to ground me. Or worse still, make me take some of his classes. Urgghhh."

"Your dad teach here?"

"Yep."

"Dude.."

"Yeah I know."

They fell into a comfortable silence.

"I'm Jesse, by the way." he spoke up, eyes twinkling down at her.

"Beca. Beca Mitchell."

"Wait. Mitchell? As in Professor Mitchell? He teaches comparative literature, right?"

"One and only'" Beca confirmed. She gazed back at him a little curiously. "So Jesse by the way, what do you do besides vandalising property?"

"Lots. Got a job at some lab testing the effects on marijuana on appetite. Help my room mate with his show. He does magic. I'm his glamorous assistant." If he noticed Beca chuckling at that, he didn't show it. He was ticking things off as he spoke. "Joined the film club. Pledged with the Sigma Beta. Usual stuff. I mean, who comes to college to study, right?"

"Yeah," Beca agreed. This guy was pretty cool. Nerdy but cool. "I'm just biding my time too. Once this year is up, I'm going to LA."

"L.A? Wow. What's happening in L.A.?"

Beca hesitated for a moment. She didn't usually talk about her dreams of going to L.A. to strangers. It was weird how this guy can make her talk.

"I want to make music," she confessed. "That's what I really want to do. So I want to move there, work from the bottom, start paying my dues."

"Your dad's ok with that?" Jesse asked I mean, I don't know but you must get like free tuition or something."

"I do. He does," Beca replied.

"And you throwing all that away?"

That smart a little and Beca was about to open her mouth, ready with a stinging comeback when he immediately apologised.

"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. If anything, I would understand where you coming from," he said. "All I want to do is score movies. That's what I want to do when I grow up. Score movies."

"Yeah?" Bec said, curious now.

"Yep," he nodded. "But the sensible thing for me is to go through college first, maybe get good enough grades to go to grad film school and then move to California. My parents are paying for all the tuition so I won't have to work as a stripper to pay my student loans."

That snort from her came out from nowhere.

"You got your whole life planned out, huh?" Beca said.

"I try," he shrugged. "But somehow my well laid life plans didn't include landing in jail and meeting badass girls dressed as flight attendants."

"Not a flight attendant," Beca grimaced. "It's my Barden Bella uniform. I don't know whether you've heard of it. We sing acapella." She mistook his expression for disbelief. "Yeah, I know. We had regional competition today."

"Are you serious? You punched a guy and broke a glass wall at the regionals?" he asked. At her amused nod, Jesse let out a slow whistle. "Damn. I never knew organised nerd singing could be so exciting. Benji, my roommate, tried out for one of the groups. The Treblemakers? He didn't get a spot. The captain was a bit of a dick."

"You must mean Bumper. Yes, he is."

He was about to say something else when an officer walked up to the cell and called out loudly. "Rebecca Mitchell."

Beca turned and the officer gestured at her.

"You made bail."

Her dad was already here? Where did all the time go? She got up and retrieved her jacket, folding it slowly. Jesse was looking up at her and she was 't sure why exactly but she suddenly didn't want to leave?

"So..umm..will you be ok?" Beca asked. "Is someone bailing you out?"

"Yes, Benji's on the case," he answered. He then hastily added. "It was great meeting you. Thank you for educating me on the exciting world of acapella."

"Nice meeting you too."

"Hurry up, Miss Mitchell. We don't have all night," the officer called out, looking a bored.

Beca was frantically trying to think of something else to say but there was no helping it. Her dad was probably waiting outside, fuming and she could not drag this out any longer. She straightened up, her jacket slung, over her arm. Giving Jesse one final smile, she turned towards the cell door.

"Beca?"

Jesse was calling out to her and she immediately turned back. The officer at the door was sighing dramatically. Lovebirds. Why did this have to happen on his shift? Btoh Jesse and Beca ignored him.

"Just so you know -" Jesse said hopefully. "I'm taking your dad's class this term. So...if he's being a hard ass and you have to attend his class, you know, in the middle of all your street fighting - "

He left it hanging but she was already smiling that half teasing smile that made his stomach flip.

"Yeah, ok," she answered. "Peace out, dude."

And later, on the long drive back to campus. after Dr. Mitchell had exhausted all his lectures on appropriate behaviour, he was very, very surprised when his wayward daughter very meekly agreed that yes, she would attend his English Lit 101 class this term.


End file.
